In The Garden
by DelightingInMyMadness
Summary: Hermione and Draco are out for revenge, and decide to go about it in a very Slytherin way. Lots of Ron bashing, so if you have a soft spot for him... read this with an open mind? Yes, an open mind. Rated M because of violence, language, and expected smutty goodness.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys! So, this is going to make me sound like the most unintelligent person on the planet, but, before I was DelightingInMyMadness, I was the Turtlepirate. I wrote a couple Zutara stories under that alias before I forgot my password. To everything. And I will be putting The Perfect Wife and Midnight Confusion on under this name after revisions so I can continue those stories. Anyways, on with my latest brain child...**

**In The Garden**

It starts like just like every other time he does it. I sneak into the common room after a long night of studying in the library, to find him snogging some random buxom blond on the couch in front of the fire. I probably should tell him that I know what he does when I'm not around,and how hurt I feel, but I really don't want to end what we have. So, instead, I slink back into the hall way and decide I need some air, and to be away from everyone before I snap.

Finding my way out of the front doors and down the steps, I run to my special place. Where I always come when I catch Ronald with another woman or, when they're drunk, Harry. It's a small marble bench close to the Forbidden Forest. Surrounded by trees and next to a small brook, it is the perfect place to cry; no one can see or here you. Sitting on my bench, I let it all out, all the tears and rage and jealousy. Why does he never kiss me, his own girlfriend, like that? Am I that unattractive? Why does he even keep me around when I'm obviously so unappealing?

The snapping noise of someone approaching breaks my train of thought. Wiping my tears away as best as I can with my sleeve, I stand and start to reach for my wand.

"Who do we have here?" The voice asks menacingly as it approaches. "Granger. What are you doing out after hours? And where is Potty and Weasel? Don't yell. It would be rather inconvenient to have to explain that to the fat oaf and his dog when they come running," the voice says calmly as it steps into my line of sight.

"Malfoy, why has the schools resident death eater graced me with his presence this fine evening?" I ask in a fake amiable tone.

"Well, Granger, the school's resident mudblood princess happened to be sniveling rather loudly on the grounds after hours, and I just had to see the book worm have a break down. That always makes my day so much better," he deadpans. "You still haven't answered my question. What are you doing out here? Isn't this breaking one of your precious rules?"

"Sod off, ferret. I don't have to answer your questions."

He stalks toward me. "You do. See, I have information that would mortify you if it were to go public."

"Oh really?" I raise an eyebrow in challenge.

"Really. The Griffindor Princess stares at me in potions when she thinks I can't see her looking. See anything you like?" he asks, waggling his eyebrows.

_Oh no... he saw? Okay... one quick lie won't hurt. _"Please! Me? Staring at you? I was looking at Blaise. Now _that _is one fine black man." _There. That wasn't even really a lie. Blaise __is__ good looking._

"Now, now, Granger," he wags his finger, shaking his head and walking toward me. "The brightest witch of our age can't even think up a proper lie? Blaise doesn't even sit next to me in potions, although I'm sure he'll be pleased to know you think he's 'one fine black man'. Unless," he pauses, letting the threat settle in, "you do as you're told and answer the question."

_Damn... Just_... _Damn. Am I really that bad at lying? Do I really want to risk humiliation just so I don't have to tell my nemesis about Ron and that other woman? What else would Malfoy say about me if I don't... hang on... Why does he even care? "_Why do you care why I was outside crying, Malfoy?" I inquire.

He hesitates a moment before answering me. "Because, Granger, I can always use it as blackmail later. Plus, I would like to thank the person who made the Griffindor Princess cry. They just might be my new best friend," he smirks, pleased by his own answer.

Dejectedly, I look down at my Mary Jane's. "I'm sure Ron would be pleased to here you say that," I mutter sarcastically.

"What has that gangling twit done? And yes, you must answer that one, as well."

"He was kissing another girl while he thought I was in the library," I sniff as the tears start to flow yet again at the memory.

"What a weasel."

"Did you just sympathize with me?" I question quickly, confused.

"No," he answered hastily. "But any man who cheats is a rank bastard. It's just a fact."

"And you're not?" I ask jokingly as my tears dry.

"Obviously not, as I am checking on someone I don't even like when they are distressed."

I look up and stalk toward him in irritation. "Yes, threatening to blackmail someone if they don't give you information is quite noble indeed, Malfoy."

"Well, I was going to help you, but old habits die hard, ya' no?" Malfoy admitted quietly when I get less than a meter away from him. "I just can't be civil to you. It's a physical impossibility. It's my natural response."

"Natural response to...?"

"To the unknown," He muttered, looking at the ground.

"You've known me for almost seven years, Malfoy," I say pointedly, hoping to either get an explanation to his puzzling answer or silence him.

"But I don't know or understand a single thing about you. Take, for instance, your frizzy hair; is it impervious to taming charms and potions, or do one of your golden boys happen to like it in a special way?" he asks, not unkindly Unconsciously, while he speaks, he takes a lock of my hair between his fingers and is twirling it around.

"Malfoy," I say slowly, "is there a reason you're toying with my hair, or are you just that fascinated by it?"

"What?" he starts, disturbed from his trance, dropping my hair and taking a step back, as if just realizing how close he is to me.

"You should get back up to the castle, Granger. You're too close to the Forbidden Forest. If you get eaten or mangled, Dumbles and the Golden boys will have me killed. Or worse, expelled," he mocks, in an eerily good impression of me.

"You're right..." I begin, walking past him.

"Of course I am," he replies in his usual conceited tone.

"You _are_ physically incapable of being civil to me," I say, then trudge up the hill to the castle steps, not checking to see if Malfoy is behind me. I have more important problems.


	2. Chapter 2

When I got back to the common room, Ron's latest tryst has left and he and Harry are sitting on the couch, staring into the fire.

"Hello, boys," I call on my way up the steps to my dormitory.

Instead of the usual comments on the amount of time I spend in the library, my entrance goes ignored. I stop in my ascent and turn back towards them. "Boys? Something wrong?" I ask, walking back into the common room.

"Where were you last night, Hermione?" Harry asks without looking away from the flames.

"I was in the library, Harry. Where else would I be?"

Ron stands quickly, turning on me. "Next to the forest with Malfoy, perhaps? Does that ring any bells?"

"What?" I demand.

"You heard me! You were with that slimy ferret last night! Harry saw you!" Ron yells.

Harry stands as well. "Why would you lie, Hermione? Are you hiding something?"

I decide to avoid their questions and accusations. "Why were you out after hours, Harry? When I left, you were asleep."

"Ron came and woke me up. He was worried that you were out too late, so we checked the map. You and Malfoy were quite close, alone, after curfew. What were you two doing, Hermione?"

_Damn. The Marauders' Map. The sneak's arch nemesis._ "I... Um..."

"Are you fucking the ferret?" Ron asks loudly. "Behind my back? You're a bloody whore, Hermione! A Slytherin's whore!"

_That does it._ "That's rich, coming from Mr. Can't-Keep-Keep-It-In-His-Pants himself! You think I didn't know, Ronald? Because I did! For the past month I have known about all the little whores you snog in the middle of the common room when I'm at the library! I was the last to know, and I didn't say anything because everyone says we're supposed to be together! And you!" I turn on Harry, jabbing my finger in his chest. "I know about your part in it, too! You're supposed to be my best friend! And you hid this from me! You're both nasty little weasels!"

Ron and Harry just stand there, mouths agape. I start up the winding staircase to the girls dormitory, breathing heavily with anger, stomping my feet. Half way up, I turn. "And I'm not shagging the bloody ferret! Even though he would probably be a better choice than you, Ronald!"

By the afternoon, everyone in the castle has heard about "The Golden Trio's spat". Some try to offer comfort, some openly stare, and some compliment me on my guts. I ignore them all. They knew. They knew and they didn't tell me. They knew and they let it happen. I am done with them all. I sit at the far end of the Gryfindor table at supper and glare at every one who comes to sit by "the smartest witch of our age". Even Ginny steers clear of me.

After supper, I wander aimlessly around the grounds. Autumn has come, and the trees of the forest are in beautiful hues of gold and scarlet. I find myself beside my bench, and sit to admire them in the daylight. Lost in thought, I don't here him approach.

"Come here often, Granger?" he asks, sitting beside me.

"I could ask you the same question Malfoy," I say, still staring up into the canopy.

He doesn't respond, choosing instead to take in the foliage like me. "Autumn is entirely too Gryfindor for my tastes," Malfoy finally says. "I've always preferred winter."

"Me, too," I say absently.

"No snarky remarks? No quick wit? I must say Granger, I'm quite disappointed. Here I was looking for a big row, and the one person I can always count on for one can't deliver. What am I to do with my afternoon?" He asks teasingly.

"Sorry to ruin your plans, Malfoy. I'm not in a arguing mood today," I reply, still gazing into the forest.

"Still tore up because the Golden Boys think we're shagging?" He smirks as I look up at him with wide eyes. "Yes, I heard. It's funny when you think about it," he laughs.

"Yes it's hilarious that my boyfriend cheated on me. It's amusing to think that he wanted to blame me for something so he could get out of our relationship without being the bad guy. My favorite part is that even after I knew, I still stayed with him because it was what others expected of me. I laugh just thinking about it," I say looking at the ground, hoping he didn't hear the tears in my voice at the end.

"I'm sorry, Granger. I wasn't trying to be insensitive," Malfoy says, hanging his head as well. We sit in silence for a long while, contemplating why we came and what to say. In the end, I speak first.

"Why are you being nice to me, Malfoy? I'm just a lowly mudblood," I state, looking at his slumped shoulders.

Malfoy looks up to meet my gaze. "Why are you letting me? I'm just a pompous Death Eater," he mocks. I sigh and go back to staring at the dirt beneath my feet.

"You know..." he starts. "If they look at that precious little map of theirs, they'll see us. I bet they're looking. Right now," He slides closer to me, shrinking the distance between us to mere inches. "And they see our two dots this close. Weaselby is probably seething," he smirks.

"So you're just doing this to piss off the Golden Boys?" _Typical Malfoy, has to have an agenda. Can't just-_

"No. That's just a perk," he interrupted my internal rant.

I look up at him, confused. "A perk to what?" I ask, curious what else he could be getting out of this... this new found civility.

"If I told you, Granger, I wouldn't get the fun of confusing you, would I? You're curious now. Your insatiable... _lust_ for knowledge will drive you insane. You won't be able to tolerate it," he says with a lopsided smile, chuckling under his breathe.

"If you don't give me the actual reason why you're hanging around me, I won't have a legitimate reason to give them. They'll assume the rumor is true. Wouldn't want your cronies to think you're sleeping with a muggleborn, would you?" I ask, raising my eyebrow.

Draco leans down to my ear and I close my eyes at the feeling of his warm breath on my neck. "Let them think what they want to, deary," he whispers. Before I can open my eyes and respond, Draco turns and leaves me watching his back retreat from my alcove by the forest.

**What do you guys think? I am so sorry about the wait. This last semester was hell, but now that summer has arrived, I will have ample time to write (for you people who appreciate my work, anyways). And since I always forget to tack this on, disclaimer for all my work: I own nothing except for my own creativity and my turtle, and he has almost nothing to do with my writing process.**

**Much love,**

**Delight **


	3. Chapter 3

I again sit in solitude at breakfast, though this time, I don't have to glare nearly as much. I'm there before most people, as usual, and the majority of those present were sent off the day before. Content with eating my toast alone, I pull a book from my bag and begin to read. Engrossed in the text, I don't notice him until he pushes the book away from my face. When I look up, I discover he has sat himself next to me at the table. Like it's normal.

"Morning deary," he says, grabbing a bagel from one of the many magical dishes on table.

"Malfoy, you do realize that you're a Slytherin, correct? You haven't lost the small amount of brain cells you had, have you?" I ask, stunned by his appearance next to me in a public setting.

"I do realize that I am in Slytherin House, yes. And regarding these brain cells you speak of, I don't know what they are exactly but I'm going to consider it an insult and treat it appropriately." With that, he snatches my book from me completely. "You won't get this back until you explain these 'cells' to me and apologize," he states, smirking at my angry pout.

"I can't just explain cells to you. That takes a whole week of biology in muggle schools, and I need that book by tomorrow," I whine, reaching for the book though he holds it just out of my reach.

He stands, holding the book over his head. "You'll just have to stay up tonight making sure I thoroughly grasp it then, won't you Princess?" He wiggles his eyebrows at me. Irritated, I stand as well, reaching on tiptoe to reach the damn book. When I can't quite reach it, I push on his shoulder for added leverage. Malfoy starts chuckling, so I glare at him as fiercely as I can while balancing on my toes.

"What?" I growl. "What is so funny, Malfoy?"

"Well, Princess," he smirks, "you seem to be hanging all over me, in the Great Hall, and you have quite the audience observing." I blush. "And that blush that you're now trying to hide, combined with the rumors already circling, has just made you and I an 'us' in the eyes of the students of Hogwarts. Smile, deary. We're the newest happy couple."

I looked at the students filling the Great Hall. Most look at us and whisper to the people next to them. _The princess and the playboy: how long will it last? Think someone dared him? Poor girl. Doesn't she know he's- _I can hear it already. All the questions and assumptions. All these people are going to think that I shagging him. That I broke Ron's heart, like he's been telling everyone. All these people- I start to hyper ventilate. Unconsciously, I rest my head on Malfoy's shoulder, close my eyes, and shake.

I don't feel him wrap his arms around me. I don't feel him smoothing my hair. I don't hear him telling me it's okay. I don't even notice when he swoops me up in his arms, though he must have, because when I open my eyes, I'm higher up then I should be and I can see my bench. Malfoy gently sets me down on it when we arrive and quickly sits next to me. I can see his mouth moving, and I know he must be speaking to me, but my ears just won't work. I slump into his side, drifting into nothing.

**(Dun dun dun)**

I wake up slowly, almost in parts.

My ears are the first to revive. I hear the leaves fluttering on a lazy breeze. I hear little creatures bustling about in tree limbs. I hear distant voices, laughing, talking. But these were all background noises. I focus on a sound much closer. His voice. He's panicked, I can tell from his tone. I can't make out his words, though.

The next function I regain is the ability to feel. I don't feel the cool cement bench under me, as I expected. Instead, I feel something warm and living all around me. I feel warm air on my shoulder, and a pressure on my arm.

When I finally have my sight, I look up to his eyes staring down at mine. I can see relief wash through him, starting in the draw of his mouth, to the intensity of his eyes, to the slope of his shoulders. He smiles, genuinely, saying, "Bloody princess, going off and fainting everywhere."

I look around, realizing I'm laying in his lap and he's been holding me like I child. I ask him why, to which he replies, "So you wouldn't fall... Can't have people seeing you with bruises. They've already assumed we're together, wouldn't want to hear what else they'll come up with."

"You would think they would have better things to do then gossip and lie," I think aloud, pondering. "With Voldemort gaining follow..." I trail off, noticing slight anger in Malfoy's face. "I'm sorry, Malfoy. I wasn't thinking," I apologize, turning away from his intense gaze and trying to stand.

"It's fine," he says, rising to assist me. As I attempt to gain my footing, I stumble into him, instinctively reaching and grabbing the front of his robes. Malfoy, having just stood himself, looses his balance. We tumble to the dirt. I land on his chest, and sit there for a moment trying to orient myself.

Malfoy chuckles lowly, and I feel the vibration radiate through me. I shiver. "Temporary motor malfunction, Granger?" he smiles.

"Haven't got all my senses back yet." I try to get up again, but I fall and land next to him. We start to laugh, but are interrupted by someone growling.

"I'm not shagging the bloody ferret!" he mocked. "Even though he would probably be a better choice than me, right Hermione? Isn't that what you said? Looks like you two are pretty cozy to me."

Before I can protest, Malfoy wraps his arm around my shoulder, kisses my cheek, and glares up at Ron. "Sound pretty jealous, Weasel. Upset that 'Mione's found herself a better bloke so soon?

Ron spits on the ground and stalks toward us. " 'm not jealous. Angry that she's cavorting with the enemy, Ferret." He turns his glare at me. "After everything we've been through, 'Mione? You'd still talk to him? Voldemort gains power everyday! How are you going to fight when this wanker betrays you to him?"

Malfoy stands quickly. "Watch yourself, Weasel. I wouldn't harm Hermione. Ever. And as for Voldemort, I'm sure she is more than capable of taking care of her self should the need arise. Now, if you would excuse yourself, we were having a rather nice time before you interrupted."

Ron takes another step toward me, and I see pain flash behind his eyes. Briefly, but then he turns away. "Fine then. I see you don't mind to have a Death Eater speak for you. Don't come begging to me and Harry when you come to your senses or he hurts you."

_Don't come... Begging? Begging! Oh... _I stand, not feeling nearly as intimidating as I need to while sitting on the ground. "Begging?! To you two? For some inexplicable reason, Ronald, I find it easier to imagine you and Harry hurting me at the moment than Draco! And I finally came to my senses yesterday, when I left you! Now leave me alone, you self-righteous prat, or so help me I will curse you!"

Ron stops walking, and turns to look at me. His face has blanched and his shoulders slump. "Fine. If that's how you feel, 'Mione." With that, he turns again, walking away from me.

"Quit calling me 'Mione and quit pretending to sulk!" I yell after him. "You've lost the privilege!"

As Ron's retreating figure becomes smaller, I feel Malfoy step behind me. "You know," he says, "when that anger isn't directed at me, it's almost cute."

**Okay, children! Chapter three has been published. It was supposed to be three and four, but they were too short, so I stuck them together. Four would have started after the (dun dun dun) for those who are curious. **

**Review, my lovelies. Not only does feed back make me feel like a princess, it helps me know when I need to clear things up. I try to get back to everyone who reviews, even if it's just to say thank you. **

**Also of importance, I recently acquired a 'Twitter'. Why is this important? Because, I'm going to start asking questions about story direction and possible events in the story on this 'Twitter'. Those of you that follow me may have input on this and future stories. So follow me! TheTurtlePirate**

**Much love,**

**Delight **


	4. Chapter 4

**I never expected this story to be this well received I truly expected it to flop. The fact that over 60 people are following it after 3 chapters amazes me. I would like to say thank you to all of you how are taking time out of your day to read my ramblings. You guys are great!**

**I would like to especially thank TheAustralianZombie for helping me with my grammar in the last chapter. I really appreciate it. Someone has to keep me in check.**

**Also, I would like to apologize for the wait. I promised some one that I would have an update within the week, and here it is, over a month later, and I give you this load of crap. I'm not promising anymore updates because I'm unreliable with deadlines. Anyhoo, enjoy.**

"If you're just going to stand there staring at me, I'm going to assume you _do_ like what you see, Hermione."

I realize I'm gaping at him like a fish. I blush. Malfoy catches it before I look towards the ground and smirks, coming even closer to me. "What's the matter, Granger? You where so feisty just a second ago, and now you're completely quiet. What are you shook up about?"

He grabs my chin between his thumb and forefinger, pulling my head up so I can't avoid his search look. "Why'd you do that, Draco?" I notice the way his eyebrow arches when I use his given name, but I don't worry about it. Not two minutes ago, he was calling me 'Mione'. We're even.

"Do what, Hermione? Compliment you?" he asks. "Because I can," he answers before I can. Again.

"No, _Draco_," I drag his name out. "Why did you give him the impression that we're together? Now he's going to go and tell everyone that we really are together, and they're going to give me those looks just like they did this morning in the Great Hall, and they're-" I don't get to finish my ramblings, because he places his finger over my lips and shushes me. Looking up into his face, I see him smiling and chuckling silently.

"You worry way too much about what other people think, Hermione. It can't be good for you." He drops his finger and smirks. "Why do you care what those imbeciles think anyway?"

I really think about my reasoning before I answer him. "I have spent way to much time being better then those people so they would think that I was equal to them. I don't want them to think any less of me because of Ron," I whisper, looking down at the ground I have come to know well due to the amount of time I spend staring at it recently.

"Why would they think any less of you? Aren't they your friends?" he questions me, truly curious.

I roll my eyes, but don't look up. "You really don't know much, do you?"

It came out as more of a pondering than an actual question, but he still answers. "I tend to think that I'm quite intelligent, but please, do explain why you think differently." He waves his hand in a 'proceed' gesture.

"I wasn't talking about grades. I was talking about the way people are. You're naïve to the facts. People don't like people who are smarter than they are, especially someone with less experience. People don't like people who would rather spend time with a book than with them," I state. "People aren't friends with know-it-alls."

I whisper the last part, turning to walk back to the castle before he can laugh at me. He catches me by the arm and turns me back towards him.

"But Potter and Weasley-"

"Harry and Ronald couldn't find their asses with both hands and a map. With out me, they'd be long dead by know, and they've come to realize it. Saving someone on multiple occasions tends to entail niceties and obligatory, begrudging friendship.

They don't understand me, and I hope to never sink to the level of their mental capacity. Ron and Harry like me because I can do things for them. They don't like me because I'm me. No one does," I pout. "Now that you've gotten your little heart-to-heart, I would appreciate it if you would leave alone me to mope."

Draco doesn't release me. Instead, he looks at me with pain and sympathy almost tangible in his silver orbs. "That's terrible, Hermione. I'm so sorry," he whispers. "Didn't Weasley ever..."

"Love me? I think he thought he did. To begin with. But I've come to the conclusion that Ron saw that I did things for him and wanted me to do more... things... for him. And when I didn't want to, he started having all of those whores. He didn't end it because breaking up with me would ruin his 'Golden' image."

Draco studied me intensively for a moment or two, like he was really looking at me for the first time, absorbing every line and feature of my face. We stand there,afraid of what the other is thinking. I can practically see the wheels clicking into place in his head.

"You're a virgin." It isn't a question. It isn't a mean-spirited statement, either. I'm surprised. I've never been one for gossip, but even I have overheard Draco bragging about his... prowess... to every other Slytherin male. The lack of even a small jab at my prudish ways or unattractive features astounds me.

The Draco Malfoy I have known for over six years would never pass up an opportunity to rip into anybody. Even his best mates are victim to his sarcastic manner. "Draco..." I ask, "you're not Imperiused or anything, are you? You're not some imposter taking Poly juice? Is this some sort of dare? Because I re-" I am silenced once again by his finger on my lips.

"Is it really so impossible to think that I could actually be nice to you without some evil scheme in mind?"

I pull his hand away from my face, but don't release it. "Before the last few days? Yes. But now? Now I have no idea. What are you playing at, Draco?"

The amount of direct eye contact we've made in less than a week is staggering. But, here we are, yet again. Standing in my special place, by my bench, beside the forest, in the garden, staring into each other, almost in an unspoken challenge. Draco breaks first, looking down at my hand, still clasping his.

"Half of Hogwarts is under the impression, Hermione, that you and I are together," he states.

"And..?" I ask, waving my free hand.

"And..." he pauses dramatically. "I know you want revenge on the Weasel. He can't stand me. Wouldn't it burn him if you and I... _were _together? He's telling people you left him for me to gain sympathy. But if you told people that you left him for me because of all the terrible things he did, he would lose all that sympathy _and_ have to see you on the arm of the most handsome man in Hogwarts."

_Not conceited at all, are you? _I roll my eyes. "Well... When you put it like that... this revenge thing sounds like a piece of cake. But what do you get out of it, Draco? What's in it for you?"

"Tormenting He-Who-Is-A-Flaming-Ginger and The Boy Who Just Won't Die."

"It can't just be that, Draco. You always have some grand scheme to improve things for yourself. What is it this time?"

He pauses to think for a moment. I begin to believe he'll never answer me, but in true Malfoy fashion, he can't let me have the last word. "You'll just have to figure that out along the way. More incentive to give it a try, right?" Again, that smirk. But this time, it isn't taunting. It's almost... friendly... if a smirk can be amiable.

"Alright, Draco. Only because I love a mystery," I assure quickly.

"Of course, Princess. Now, being the marvelous pseudo boyfriend I am, I shall escort you to your first class." He offers me his arm. "Can't let the book worm be late to Potions."

Releasing his hand, I place mine in the crook of his elbow. "Of course."


	5. Chapter 5

**You people really have no taste. More than 90 people following this load of crap?! While I don't understand the draw, I would like to thank you all for the support I've received. It truly means the world to me, knowing that people believe me capable of, well anything, really. **

**Doctorwhonation left me this lovely message that threatened the gnawing of limbs if I didn't update soon. So, I'm updating. Not nearly as soon as I had hoped but... Thank them. Or me. Whatever. **

**I don't own Harry Potter. (Oh My God! I remembered this time!)**

Many days pass in faux bliss. Malfoy and I sit in what is now _our _spot on the bench during meals so people won't stare at us. We study in the back corner of the library after supper. He walks me to my classes, most of which we share anyways. In these we sit as close to each other as room divisions will allow, as we are separated by house. We walk together in the hall. We sit by the Black Lake until dusk. And during all this time we're together, we talk.

We talk about all kinds of things, potions, charms, runes, our day, the dirty looks some give us throughout, our homes, our families, our preferences, our ideas. I learn that he's never experienced any muggle culture other than the short trips to and from King's Cross Station every year. I learn that he also loathes Divination, and has opted out of it this year, like I have. I learn that he would rather be a beater than a seeker, but doesn't have the build for it. I learn that he got his lithe frame from his mother's side of the family. I learn that he wants no part in the family business, or the wealth that comes with it, because of the emotional taxes he has seen placed on his parents' relationship. I learn that, instead, he longs to master the art of Potions, not in order to teach, but to work as a pharmacist for Saint Mungo's. I learn that Draco's interest in the medical field spring from his little sister's death. I learn that his sister, Lyra, died during infant hood from a currently incurable birth defect. I learn that Draco believes this to be the reason his mother is so over protective of him. I learn that Draco also feels very protective of his mother, and that's why he's doing _this_.

I learn all of this and more in our daily talks, but we never once bring up the war or what the "this" is. During our time together, it doesn't exist. I don't bring it up for fear of offending what is now my only friend. I can't figure out why Draco doesn't speak of it. I believe he likes denying its existence; it makes this _thing_ much easier, living this lie. But each one of our talks makes this feel like less and less of a lie. Each new thing I learn about my former tormentor makes it harder and harder to call this relationship an act, each forced touch and kiss feels harder to control, each glance becoming more longing than the last. I feel as though I've lost some battle, but what was I fighting to begin with?

Today we sit in the Great Hall for once, deciding to forgo the picnicked meals in favor of a table and hot food. Parking ourselves at the end of the Griffindor table, just as I had that first day, we fill our plates and eat in comfortable silence. Half way through my first indoor meal in a week, a hand slams onto the table next to me.

"Decide to join us again? And you brought a friend! How... lovely."

_Just what I wanted with my supper: Flaming asshole. Yay. _"Go away, Ronald," I order without looking up from my meal.

"Am I not good enough to be seen with the princess and her boy toy?" he asks in mock offense. "Sorry, love, but you came to my table, and I can talk to anyone I want. And I've been dying to speak with you for _days_."

Malfoy stood from his seat beside me. "Weaselby, I believe she told you to leave. So why don't you scurry back to your little hovel." I can feel him scowling at Ron. He must practice in the mirror for his expressions to be tangible.

_Just leave, Ron. Just go. Don't start something, please don't. Just walk away. Walk- _"Why don't you 'scurry back' to Daddy, hmm?"

_Of course not._

"You'd like it if I left, wouldn't you? So you'd be free to torment Hermione, who hasn't done a damn thing to you. Pathetic."

Ron straightens to be taller than Draco. "Oh, I'm pathetic? At least I'm not Death Eater scum! Or a Death Eater's Who-"

That's all Ron gets out. I turn in me seat to see him holding a bloodied nose, and Draco shaking out his hand. Before I can say anything, Ron recovers from the blow and lands a dizzying punch to Draco jaw. And then they're brawling on the floor of the Great Hall. It is one of the most brutish things I have ever seen. Strangely though, I feel almost flattered. Here is Draco Malfoy, my one time 'enemy', defending my honor against someone I used to believe was more than a friend. Even if our relationship is a farce, the scene warms my heart to the Slytherin even more.

Eventually, I realize that this is a fight. That I've been standing here, gawking at two boys -men, really- beating the shite out of each other. I can't just stand by and watch anymore. I lean down to try and pull Draco from his seat atop Ron's chest, but my timing couldn't be worse. The ginger throws a punch, and instead of the intended target, he catches my cheek. I howl in pain. Years of Quidditch and wrestling his five older brothers have made him strong.

At my cry of distress, Draco whips around. Glimpsing my already bruising cheek, his silver eyes flare with rage on a level I haven't seen before, not even in our past rounds and quarrels. He turns on the long-time object of his hate with renewed fury. All I can do is look on in shock.

I can't understand why someone hasn't intervened by now. I know that it's late, we had planned to avoid as many people as possible, but surely there should still be a Professor having a late supper, or a student that had run to get help. Deciding that the violence had gone on long enough, but not wanting another injury for my efforts, I soundlessly wave my wand. Ron and Draco a lifted from their spot on the floor to hover above it, out of each others reach, not that they don't try to swing anyway. After a few moments of tried and failed attempts to continue, they gradually still and look down on me. Seeing my wand, the two realize that I have put them in their current positions. Before they can plead with me to put them down and let them continue, as angered and unsatisfied men are apt to do, I start in on them.

"Was that really necessary? Do you feel better now? I bet all those bruises make you feel amazing, don't they? And it's not like you two could have talk this one out. No, physical violence must be resorted to, because that always goes as planned." I know they can hear the sarcasm dripping from me every word. Not that I'm laying it on thick or anything. "I am going to put you both down now. And we," I point to Draco and myself, "are going to finish our meal quietly, and you," I point at Ron, "are going to go to the other end of the table. You are never going to bother me again. You and I both know that I can out-match you in will, wit, power, and skill. Don't tempt me to prove it to everyone else," I say darkly. Waving my wand, both of them touch down gently on the floor. Once they've regained control of their motor skills and are fit to walk, they bump passed each other harshly, Draco coming toward me, and Ron's back retreating away from me yet again.

I sit back down in my seat and return to my food like nothing has happened. My _"boyfriend"_, however is smiling. Here he sits, bruised, bloodied, and probably sore as hell, and he's _smiling_.

"Did you get brain damage or something? You were just in a bloody fight! Why are you smiling like a maniac?" I question.

His smile broadens, and he leans in closer to me, one of the signals that an obligatory kiss for the sake of this forgery is coming soon. And it does. When our lips part, he smiles again, crinkling the purple skin around his eyes. Brushing some hair out of my face and tucking it behind my ear, he kisses my forehead.

I blush from the affection, but I blush even more from what he says afterwards.

"You know you're bloody adorable when you threaten people, right?"

**Okay, so I am thoroughly unimpressed. In the "I learn" part, I tried to show that their talks go into more detail every time, going from school and Quidditch to his family and just almost dipping into their positions in the war, but their both (Hermione feels) afraid to talk about that just yet. I don't know how clear I made that. In my head, it makes sense, but that's a scary place to be.**

**Much love,**

**Delight**


	6. Chapter 6

**You guys seriously are the best! I really feel the love. You probably get tired of reading this, but thank you! I can't express the appreciation I feel to all of you who review, follow, favorite, hell, you guys who just read to correct my grammar in your head (I do it when I read). In The Garden has more than 110 followers, almost 50 favorites, and I've only put up five chapters. Sirius (Hehe) love to you all.. **

**Also, I updated twice in as many days. You are quite welcome.**

**I own Harry Potter.**

**-No, you don't.**

**Fine, I don't own Harry Potter. Way to crush my dreams.**

**This chapter gets a name, because I say it needs one, as it is grand. **

**Chapter Six: Heart to Hearts with Harry**

Ron, and the few other students who were in the Great Hall during the fight, have told everyone else about it by the time I get back to the common room. I try to head straight to the girls' dormitories to avoid any more questions, but I'm stopped by a familiar hand on my arm. When I turn to address its owner, I find myself looking into the emerald eyes of someone I used to consider my best friend.

"We need to talk," he says plainly.

"Harry, I really think I should just go up-"

He interrupts me. _Why does every guy I talk to feel the need to cut me off? I hardly every get to finish a bloody sentence! It's ridiculous! _"Hermione, please. I just want to talk to you, really. Can we go somewhere more private?"

I almost say no. But I can see the remorse and shame in his eyes. "Come on, then."

I turn and walk out of the portrait hole, not bothering to check and see if he's following me. As I continue down the stairs and through several hallways, I can hear his foot steps behind me. When we reach an abandoned part of the school, I pull him into a classroom that doesn't seem to be as dusty as the rest. Sitting on one of the empty desks, I wait for him to begin.

He doesn't beat around the bush. "Ron told me about the fight today."

"And you wanted to tell me how savage and cruel Draco is, right?" I stand to leave. "Sorry, Harry, but I really don't need to hear it." I almost reach the door when he speaks again.

"No. Ron was bitching about the fight, and I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry for his- our behavior. After hearing about the way Malfoy stood up for you, and the way he reacted to you being hurt, I can't disapprove of this any longer."

I turn from my place at the door to face him. "It wasn't your place to disapprove of it to begin with! You were my best friend, Harry! You should have stood by me! You shouldn't have let Ron tried to bully me around! You shouldn't have just stood around when Ron was telling everyone how big of a slut I am! You shouldn't have hid his cheating from me!" I pant from all the yelling. I've been doing that a lot lately. I turn around to look at the handle, gleaming coldly in the moonlight. "You were supposed to be my friend," I whisper.

I don't hear him approach, but suddenly, I'm enveloped in a hug. "I know, Hermione. And I am so sorry. For everything. I've wanted to apologize since you ran up the stairs that first night, but I just haven't had the courage. I've been a right git and a terrible friend. Can you ever forgive me?"

I lay my forehead on hid shoulder and cry.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

Our tenuous renewed friendship is met with relief from the majority of the student body, but Draco is uncomfortable with it, and Ron stops talking to Harry all together. After he accused him of being a spineless traitor, of course. I'm secretly happy about this. I hate myself for it, but I can't deny it. Ron has lost all of his friends because of his stubbornness and hateful nature. My revenge couldn't have been more successful.

Now that everything has fallen into place, I wonder how long Draco and I will keep up the act so as not to raise suspicions. We can't end it immediately; people are thick, but not so much as to not connect those dots. I don't want to drag it out, either. I fear my already present feelings might grow. I don't know that I can handle to much heartbreak this year, and with the war almost on our door step, I can't afford anymore distractions.

I'm on my way to see Draco to sort it when I hear voices. As I approach, I recognize them as Harry and Draco.

"If you hurt her-"

"I would never hurt Hermione."

I'm intrigued. Their talking about me. Curious, I hide in an alcove so as not to be spotted. From my new vantage point, I can see Harry staring Draco down.

"I'm so sure. Hermione's put up with too much shit already this year, she shouldn't have to deal with anymore. If this is some game, and she gets hurt, I will end you. We've never gotten along, Malfoy, but I've always tried to restrain myself. But Hermione might as well be my sister. If you fuck with her, I will not hold back."

I smile at Harry's bravado. Ever since that night in the abandoned classroom, we've been as close as ever. I couldn't not forgive him; He's always been there for me. Just like the brother he might as well be should.

Draco looks him in the eye. "In all seriousness, Potter, I would _never_ hurt her. She's just... She's amazing."

I gasp, then, remembering that I'm being the silent observer, cover mouth. Neither of the boys notice, though. "I can have an actual conversation with her. Do you know how many girl's can't hold an intelligent conversation? Most of them. But we can talk all day and never run out of things to say. And she's feisty. I've never seen someone with so much passion for everything she cares about. And she cares about everything; Animal rights, magical creatures rights, education, the arts, religion, science, music, hell, we've had debates about the necessity of historical events and the policies and laws of ancient civilizations like Greece and Mesopotamia. She knows so much about so many things. I learn something new from her everyday. Like today during lunch we discussed American history. Did you know, when their government was trying to expand westward in the 18th century, they gave the natives blankets infected with disease so they would die and leave the land open for expansion? And yesterday, we were sitting by the lake after supper, and she told me that the mermaids were put there by the founders as extra defense for Hogwarts? That's why the giant squid's in there, too, but he's a newer addition.

"She... She makes me think. She makes me see things in an entirely new light. And she listens to me when I tell her my idea's, as well. Even when she doesn't completely agree with me,or it's one of the few things she isn't enthralled by, like Quidditch, she listens. And she's beautiful. Her hair is so soft. Her eyes get this twinkle when she's trying to have me on. Her whole face lights up when she's excited, and it makes me so happy to see her like that, especially when I'm the cause. I... I would never hurt her, because I think that... that I love her, Potter."

**And it is there that we end chapter six. You all probably hate me for leaving it there, don't you? I'm smiling mischievously right now, just so you know. **

**Much love,**

**Delight**


	7. Chapter 7

**I'm feeling inspired, and I don't want to loose that, so updates might be coming faster. No promises after this one, though. I have a few people I would like to thank especially today. edwardsoneandonlylove and Sarahostervig1 have reviewed on every single chapter of this story, and their continuous support makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Another person who has been just awesome is allisath. Again, they have reviewed more than half the chapters of this story and I appreciate it dearly. I appreciate you all *bows* Really, you're too kind. **

**Also, you're all going to hate me for a little while. But I will fix it! I promise! I just hate when it feels rushed. As a point of reference, it has been approximately two and a half weeks since that first night.**

**I do not own Harry Potter. If I did, Neville would not have been forced to wear a fat suit for the last few movies. **

After Harry and Draco exchange a few more words, Harry leaves, and I step out of the alcove. I'm so confused. Love? Has he really progressed to that? I mean, I find him attractive, and I like talking to him, but we've only really even been civil to each other for a couple weeks.

The blond boy- _man. He is not the little boy he once was. He has matured. He is a man now-_ The blond man doesn't notice me until I'm almost right in front of him. He smiles at me brightly. "Some performance, eh? He really bought it! And if Potter's on board..."

I don't hear the rest. I'm lost in thought. _It was an act. _How very Slytherin of him. Very quick thinking on Draco's part. I admire his cunning. But only for a moment. Now that we're friends, I can tear the mickey out of him for his little speech. And I have plenty to work with. When he stops speaking, I nod. "Yes... So did you already have a speech written about how incredibly perfect I am? Or did you pull that out of your arse?"

He blushes. For the first time, I get to him. I feel a little smug. He recovers quickly, though. "I'm just a remarkably skilled actor. I could have convinced him I'm in love with McGonagall. Or Weaselby," he shudders.

"Mmhm... mmhm... Would you have told him about how soft McGonagall's hair is? Or would you have described Ron's intelligence and passion for learning? Or you could have talked about that sparkle McGonagall gets in her eye right before she gives you detention for screwing around in her class," I laugh.

Draco gives an indignant huff and opens his mouth to retort, but for once, I interrupt him. "While I'm sure whatever you were going to say would have been witty and insightful, I came down here because I need to talk to you about something."

"And what would that be, Ms Granger?" he asks, leading me to a window sill where we can sit.

"I was wondering how long we where going to keep this up. We can't end it right now because people would be suspicious. It can't go on forever, either. We need a time line."

Draco ponders this for a few moments. He tilts his head to the side and blows his platinum hair out of his eyes. After a little while, he straitens with as much excitement as he ever shows. "Christmas holiday is in a little more than a month. We hold out til then, write some snippy letters back and forth as proof for nosy people, and carry on with our live during the second term as slightly scorned ex-lovers."

I love it. Jumping up and hugging the mildly stricken pureblood, I gush, "Oh, Draco it's perfect! I love it! We have to think of a good story though. I mean, before it was just faking, and most of that wasn't even hard. But this... this is going to be flat out lying... and I'm not very good at that." My previous excitement drains from me as I process all the implications. This will have to go flawlessly, and I'm bloody awful at lying.

He flips his hair back out of his eyes and thinks. "We could get together a few times to practice."

I nod. "But where? My parents have heard me bitch about you for years. And your parents..." I trail off nervously. But Draco understands what I don't say. His parents would kill me if they saw me. Or hold me hostage as bait for Harry. Or give me to Voldemort. Or any other number of horrible things.

"I know. You're place is probably safer... We could tell your parents we finally got over our differences and are trying to be friends?"

"Draco, that's lying," I state obviously.

"And you need the practice. Plus, it's not even lying, it's avoiding the whole truth. We're friends now. We've worked together to over come. We just won't tell them we're _'involved',_" he makes air quotes.

I giggle. "Well, I guess you have a point... For once," I add jokingly.

He smirks at me. "Don't get cheeky with me. I could ruin all your evil plans."

"You could... but you won't. You're enjoying this, Mr Malfoy. Having the whole school believe some story you made up."

"You make it sound as though my reasons are completely selfish, Ms Granger."

"Well, you won't tell me what they are, so I must assume that they are either entirely selfish or very _very _embarrassing. And I just can't imagine you being embarrassed. Except when I bring up your little speech..."

We continue bantering back and forth into the dusk. It strikes me that here I am, talking playfully with Draco Malfoy like there won't be a tomorrow. If you had told me last month that Draco would be one of my best friends now, I would have had you sent to Madam Pomfrey in a heartbeat. But now, I can't imagine not talking to him every day. And my heart breaks, because in a little over a month, that's how it will be. My companion for the evening must have noticed my sudden melancholy air, because he asks me what's wrong. I tell him what I've just realized, that our entire relationship, not just the fake part, has a expiration date now. The day when I will have to pretend to hate him, and he I, is approaching. Draco's happiness drains as well.

"I hadn't thought of that," he whispers after a minute of sad silence.

I reach and take his hand, to comfort both him and myself. "I hadn't, either. This puts a huge wrench in the plans, doesn't it?"

"Yes, yes it does."

"I can't imagine not being friends with you now. This fake dating stuff sucks. This revenge thing was a bad idea."

Draco pulls me into a tight hug. "Don't say that. We wouldn't be so close if it weren't for this revenge thing. But I agree that the separation is going to kill me. How are we going to get around this?" he asks, laying his head on top of mine.

I snuggle into his embrace, wanting to soak up all of this I can before we have to part ways forever.

"I don't know, Draco. I don't have a clue."

I feel him smile into my hair. In what could almost pass as a joking tone, he mumbles, "That's definitely a first."

For once, I'm completely okay with Draco having the last word.

**Ah, plot twists. How do I love thee? Let me count the ways...**

**Just Kidding! But really, did you think I could let everything be sunshine and roses? They can't just fall in love quickly! At least one of them has to be in denial until... well I can't tell you that yet, can I?**

**Much love,**

**Delight**


	8. Chapter 8

**I'm just sitting here, with all the things I've been putting off all summer gathered around me, and I think, "I don't want to do... _Any_ of this." So instead of doing something productive with my life, I bring you this tale of vengeance and mystique. And I guess writing is educational and therapeutic, so it might be considered productive... somewhere... over the rainbow... but I digress. On with a story about characters I hold no actual claim to.**

I've almost forgiven them all for not telling me. _Almost_. I'm working on it. _Them_ staring at us while we try to eat breakfast is of no help to their case, though. So what if Harry and I are friends again? Surely someone in this damn place has something better to do then stare at the three of us chatting over toast. It's not even like it's news anymore! We made up almost a week ago!

Draco notice me glaring at a particularly obvious group of fifth years down the table over my pumpkin juice. His lips turn up in a grin. "Still letting them get to you, babe? Would you like me to hex them for you?" he asks jokingly, slinging his arm around my shoulders. He leans down and whispers to me, "If you glower at them for a bit longer, their heads will implode and spare me the trouble. But that would be particularly difficult to explain to Dumbles, wouldn't it, love? And I'm sure it would just ruin a perfectly edible breakfast if there were to be bits of bimbo brain everywhere. Quite unappetizing."

I laugh. Usually, I frown at such vividly crude humor. But Draco's description, while dark, puts me in a better mood.

"Quit whispering dirty things in my best friends ear while I'm trying to eat my eggs, will you? I can't hear what you're saying, but I can figure it out pretty well," Harry mumbles from across the table. The gaggle of gossips noticeably perk up as he speaks. Dirty words and glances in the Great Hall would make great rumors for their otherwise idle minds to churn with.

Seeing an opportunity, I run with it. "Draco would never start something like that before we have to go to a class, Harry. _That_ takes far too long to complete once we get started, and we can't be late for Transfiguration," I say offhandedly.

My friend blanches and chokes on his bite of muffin. Draco, to his credit, merely smirks and strokes my shoulder fondly. Regaining composure, Harry almost manages to ask the obvious. "But, Hermione, we don't have Transfiguration until second period..."

This couldn't have gone better if it had been planned. I can almost see the particular shade of crimson Ron's face will turn. "And?" I ask, glancing at him innocently.

Harry, in true fashion, says nothing, but he does go a shade paler and looks from Draco to me with wide eyes before resigning to look at his food.

Draco looks down at his plate and sniggers quietly.

When we leave the Great Hall a few moments later, he pulls me off into an empty class room. I check my watch. _Twenty minutes until Charms. I have time._

"That," he says, after placing the proper protections over the door, "was bloody brilliant. Did you see his face? Can you imagine Weasel's when he hears? Merlin's beard, I want to be there when he does!"

"You're forgetting that he already wants to kill you. Though it will be priceless, I might miss you," I state, sitting on a desktop.

"You might," he shakes his head knowingly. "You would be lost without me. If the ginger killed me, you would weep over my body and give yourself to the church."

"Of course. And were I to be killed, you would drink yourself into a stupor, slowly pickling all your insides from shear grief."

I mean it as a joke. But I see Draco hesitate before he answers me. "Of course," he says lowly, lacking his usual mirth.

I scoot over and pat the space beside me. "Come here."

He again pauses, but sits beside me anyway. I wrap one of my arms around him in a hug. "What's killed your happy face? A minute ago you were jumping for joy at the thought of Ron hearing about our 'escapades', but now you seem so disheartened."

He looks at me. Really looks at me. I can see the hurt and confusion swirling in his eyes, and for once he makes no effort to hide them. "I just... I really am going to miss you terribly. When all this is over... I don't... I don't want to pretend to hate you, Hermione. And I _will _have to pretend. I don't want to go back to how things used to be. I don't know if I can."

I don't know what to say to this. I always have a witty retort or sage-like advice for everything, but Draco has rendered me speechless yet again. So instead of offering words, I hold him. He lays his head on my shoulder and wraps his arm around me, and I lean into him. We sit in solemn silence, contemplating what is bound to come, and dreading its approach.

We arrive late to Transfiguration. Figures.

-:-:-:-:-

Back in the real world, we put on smiley faces for the rest of the student population, but I can feel our remaining three weeks rushing towards their close. Though the winter holiday draws nearer and nearer, I can't come up with a solution. I thought we could have a mutual end to it, but it wouldn't be believable. We're not a overly loving couple as it is; if we decided to be 'just friends', we would act exactly as we already do, just without the extra kissing.

This would be so much easier if I had a book about this kind of thing. _How to Break it Off with Your Fake Boyfriend; A Self-Help Guide to Remaining Friends._ If only. But I've searched the library three times, without such luck. I even searched the restricted section, and besides a mass-memory altering charm, that was a grand failure as well.

I am sitting at a library table after one of these fruitless searches when I hear someone come up behind me. They sit down across from me and pick up one of the books from the pile I've accumulated.

"_Basic_ _Love Potions and Fundamental Charms for the Heart. _Problems in paradise?"

"Hi." I say dully, not really paying attention.

"That's a very disrespectful tone with which to greet your betters, Granger," the newcomer growls.

I whip my head up from my reading to see Pansy Parkinson practically seething at me. She throws the book back down on the table and leans across the table to be closer to me.

"I know what your up to, mudblood. And now, I have all the proof I need to get my Drakey back from your filthy clutches."

"What the hell are you talking about, Parkinson? What am I up to?" I ask, bewildered and more than a tad miffed.

"Don't try and act innocent. I've figured your whole game out," she states, flipping her straight black hair with a superior air.

"Have you, now?" I question, more curious as to what her foul little brain has cooked up than worried of being outed. She could never have _actually_ discovered anything. Draco and I are always very thorough in our act and careful to never let others hear our conversations about the plan.

"Oh yes," she says, "You're not as clever as you'd like to think. It's rather obvious, really. I'm surprised no one else has said anything. One day _my_ Draco goes from Ignoring your entire existence, and the next he's always with you. I've never heard a believable story of how that came to be, and now I find you buried to your nose in books about love potions and charms. You're giving my Draco something because you can't accept how pitiful disgusting you are. How tragically alone you will always be. And I have every intention of saving him from you."

"I'm surprised."

"What, did you think no one would figure it out? _Everyone_ can see that _my _Draco is way out of your league." She smirks at me. It must be some inherently Slytherin trait. They all do it. All the time. _Is there some secret extra class they take? Nauseatingly Snotty 101, maybe?_

"Oh no, I'm not hiding anything. I'm just surprised you managed to have a cognitive thought all by yourself. Did you write your mum? I bet she'll be so proud. It only took you seventeen years, Parkinson! Congratulations!"

While she sits there, dumb-struck and contemplating the actual meaning of my praise, I pack my things quickly and leave, laughing silently to myself. Serves hjer right for being so nasty and hateful when I mind my own business.

Draco is a bad influence on me, I've decided. I would never say such things otherwise. Never.

**I like snark. Snark is my best friend, and getting to write snarky Hermione is always a pleasure. As is writing the fluffiest of fluffs I can muster for you guys. Lots of heartfelt talks and snuggling recently. I don't know how much more I can handle, really. I try to balance it with sarcasm and dry humor, though. **

**If you actually take the time to read my rambling author's notes, I'm sending you a mind hug riiiiiiiight _now_. Do you feel it? Good. Now let me go. You may be diseased for all I know. *hand sanitizer* *Disinfectant spray* *Steps out of mental HazMat suit* **

**Also, I would like to tell you that I have a sinus infection as I write this, so if it sucks, blame it on the roids. That's what I'm doing.**

**Much love,**

**Delight**


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